Feb 26, 2008

The Tax Man

Just once, I would like to get a big lump some of money back from the government. Just once.

I decided yesterday, that since I had all my forms, and some free time, I was going to sit down and do my taxes before I lost said forms in the abyss that is my bedroom. I file online, because I am really, really, bad at math, and it does all the adding and subtracting and multiplying of percentages for me. As I filled out each line, I could see my fate.

When I got to the end, I was getting a return of $15.95, the exact amount of money it would cost me to file it using UFile. I had a temper tantrum, and threw my T4's across the room. "Fuck them!", I yelled. "They can lick my arse." I decided they were not going to get any money from me, just so they could send me a cheque back in two months to cover that VISA expense.

I figured I might as well just fill it out on paper, and mail it, since at least that was free. Smyrish, the sweetheart that he is, went out and got me the tax package, and a bottle of wine to calm me down. I couldn't find a pen though, so I decided that I would re-do it all this morning.

Luckily, I checked my email before I went on the great pen search of 2008. Justin, over at the Nervous Axon, had given me a link to Studio Tax, and instructions on how to file online, for free. So I started all over again.

I realized that I had forgotten to claim the interest on my student loan, and my union dues from the Learning Centre. I was happy, I thought that would help. It didn't.

In the end, I owed 60 bucks. Not much, compared to other years. But dammit, it just doesn't seem fair. I pay extra every year, I work my arse off every damn day, and the government just doesn't seem to care. Friends of mine are uber-excited to get their taxes in, they will be getting thousands of dollars back, and have plans to buy furniture, go on vacations, etc. Makes me think I should go to University for the next ten years, and take some bullshit classes, like Greek Mythology or Women's Studies or Basket Weaving, just to get money back every spring. I'm jealous. I want to buy a new bed, or pay for my April vacation with Smyrish. But no, I'm going to have to use $60 that I don't have and give it to the government. Because they apparently don't have enough of my money yet. I probably wouldn't be as upset about this relatively small payment, if they hadn't already decided to cut funding to human services, or had given me a big fat raise this year.

All I wanted was enough money to buy my new eye glasses, and get them off of layaway.

So, fuck you Revenue Canada. Thanks for nothing.

Feb 25, 2008

The Why List

Why is it that Revenue Canada expects me to pay them $15.95 to file my taxes online, when I am only getting about $5.00 back from them?

Why is it that every time I am about to go away on a little holiday, I get my period, even if it isn't time?

Why did I not have the balls to argue with the cashier at SARCAN when he so obviously ripped me off my bottle refund?

Why does the bunny feel the need to poop all over the damn place right after I vacuum?

Why am I always out of money when Cousin Mike comes to visit?

Why am I worrying about these things?????

Feb 22, 2008

Bunny and Cat

Last night was one of the most insanely chaotic nights of work I have ever had. So this morning, when I finally arrived home, I just felt I needed to take photos of the bunny to relax myself a bit.

He was acting so darn cute, I just had to give him some Craisins, which to a bunny, are somewhat like crack. When I ran out, he actually started slapping and scratching at my hand, and then ran away to eat his litter. Apparently that's what junky bunnies do.

Trance the Cat was not impressed that I wasn't playing with her, and came over to "mip mip" at me, and give me what for.

Even after I payed some attention to her, she was still being a bag, so I threatened her with a bath, and she stopped bitching and started purring, and now we're all heading off to bed, because I have been awake for more than twenty four hours.

Feb 20, 2008

Shopping for Jeans

For two whole months now, I have been searching for a new pair of jeans. And not just any jeans, a pair of jeans that are just long enough, and fit in the waist and thigh simultaneously. After numerous unsuccessful shopping excursions, I was thinking that I was going to have to get a pair of jeans custom made for my fat, ugly and obviously awkward shaped body.

Shopping has never been my favorite activity, but this most recent search for jeans brought me to a near nervous breakdown. Having put on some, okay a ton, of weight the past few months, none of the jeans in my closet fit me, other than two pairs. One of which I just don't particularily like, and the other, who's crotch has split open thanks to my fat thighs rubbing together for the past two years that I have owned them.

Last week, I went to my doctor for a physical. His number one concern about my health was my weight, as was mine. He gave me until May 15th to lose at least twenty pounds, and put me on a very strict diet, that will not only help me lose weight, but will also help to figure out what the hell I am allergic to that makes me so damn itchy and rashy all the time. (that's a whole other story). Basically, I am allowed to eat homemade soup, vegetables, meat and eggs. No pasta, no rice, no bread, no popcorn and limited dairy for the next three months.

At first, I thought that this was a little bit of torture. Smyrish and I had just visited AJ, and she sent me home with beet rolls, perogies, homemade bread and tons of borsht. Luckily, I can eat the borscht, but the rest, just sits and taunts me in the freezer. I had also just gone grocery shopping, and realized that 85% of what I bought, could not be consumed.

I listened though, for the first time in my life, to doctor's orders. I haven't swayed from my diet, but look forward to that one day a week he has allowed me to drink beer. I do feel better. I really do. And I wish that it was warmer outside, because I am actually craving going for a walk, which is partly due to the fact that I want to reach my weight loss goal, and partly because I have had enough of this cold fucking winter, and just want to hang out in the park.

Today, I decided that enough was enough, I needed new pants. I just couldn't go out in the crotchless jeans for my weekly beer, like I did last week. Whether they fit properly or not, I had to buy them, and deal with any comments, or physically uncomfortable feelings. I headed out in my yoga pants, because they actually fit, and have a crotch to speak of, and faced Old Navy, because I at least knew that they had sizes larger than a four.

Because I have no idea what size I am, I grabbed about 15 pairs, all different sizes and styles, and hoped for the best.

The very first pair of jeans I tried on, fit. They were a size smaller than any that I have tried on in the past few months, and I didn't realize that until I looked at the tag. I almost cried, happy tears, for once. Although I can't see it, and I don't have a scale to prove it, I must have lost some weight! However, they were a bit too short for my long turkey legs, so I kept on trying on the pile of jeans. Eventually, I found a pair, the same style as the first, that would do. I wanted to buy 5 more of the same, but I reminded myself that in a couple months they wouldn't fit, so settled on the one, and promised myself that once I lose this weight, I could go back and get more.

I am now the proud owner of a pair of jeans that fit in the waist, the thigh, and are only a tad too long. Now, instead of getting custom made jeans, I just have to make one of my friends hem them a bit for me.

I am a happy, happy girl. I will stick to this diet, I know I can.

Let's Talk Sexy Times

So, last night, Smyrish and I are laying in bed, and I'm drifting off to dream land, when he mentions a video on YouTube he had watched, about some 59 year old woman talking about how women don't actually enjoy sex that much, they would much rather just have someone rub their feet, cuddle or give them a back rub, and sex was all about pleasing your man. I didn't really know what to say last night, and honestly, I was so sleepy, I'm not exactly sure what I said in reply. However, this morning, I woke up, and I just couldn't stop thinking about it for some reason.*

The girls I hang out with now, and the group of girls I hung out with in my early twenties, are all very open about their sex-lives, or lack there of. When I was younger, some of my friends were extremely promiscuous, and then there were the others that were in long-term relationships, and kind of lived through them and their adventures. I had no problem with how many people my friends slept with, and they had no problem that I know of when I went through my "slutty" phase a few years later.

Then and now, when us girls get together we can talk about EVERYTHING, and we can get down-right disgusting about it at times. (Shit, I am writing this while talking to a friend on the phone about the whole subject. Little does she know, but her words will be incorporated into this post at some point, because she's making some good points. ) But when I really thought about it, it used to be pretty rare that anyone talked about how "good" the sex was. It was more of a play-by-play of what happened after the bar. So was it any good? It does seem though that now that we are all older, and wiser, we can talk the pro's and con's, and I am hearing alot more pro's than before.

I felt sorry for this woman. Maybe she was taught that sex was "dirty", and something that good girls just didn't do, and when you did it, you did it only to please your man. Maybe, her man didn't care about pleasing her, and just used her for his own gratification. But, I had to wonder, did this woman have a point? I know a few girls who are much happier, just cuddling and kissing and doing the ol' touchy-feely, because sex doesn't do much for them. One friend, doesn't see the point of having sex just to have it, because in her opinion, it isn't any good, unless you are madly in love. I thought about all the "adult toy" parties I have attended over the years...some people come to buy something to share with their mate, but the majority, come to buy something that makes them feel sexy, and will give them an orgasm, because they just aren't having any, with or without a partner. And they usually blame whoever they are sleeping with.

I think, and correct me if I am wrong, that the ladies who aren't enjoying sex, just are not getting what they need. We girls, are different than the boys. A man, can be ready in an instant, and they usually want it that instant if they can get it. Usually women however, just can't be all "wham-bam-thank-you-sir"...the vast majority of females need their engines revved for a few minutes before they can move on to the main event, and won't enjoy it unless their partner did just that. They need to feel that they are sexy, and desirable, and loved or even lusted over, and not just a vagina that's available at the time. And it always helps, if your vagina is complimented.

So, I think that the YouTube woman was off the mark a bit. Sure, we want to please our man, but we can also be pleased. It isn't all about them, unless we let it be all about them. The times, they are a-changin' and the ladies are taking control of their pleasure, and we're talking about it, and her man just wouldn't be gettin' any at all if he has the attitude I think he has.

* I have not seen the video. I could be way off on what she was really talking about, I just liked that it got me thinking and talking about this over my morning coffee. If I get a chance to see the video, and find that I was wrong, I will hang my head in shame for three minutes as a punishment to myself.

Feb 15, 2008


I spent the whole day just wanting to be home, and now it's 10pm, and I just want to get out. Something in my gut tells me I'm missing out on something, even though I am sure I am not. It's probably just the fact that I have more energy now than I did all day when I should have been out and about. Maybe I should have gone to The Pub this afternoon....ah well. If I went out now, everyone would either be gone home or way too drunk, I'm sure. :)

Back to cleaning the bathroom.

Feb 13, 2008

Pig Spleen Guy's Son Predicted This Blizzard.

It is days like today, when I feel the need to thank my parents for making me grow up on a farm, and thank all the small town boys I hung out with as a teenager for teaching me how to drive on the snowiest, muddiest, ugliest grid roads in the world without getting stuck.

Why? Because I would be down right embarrassed if I didn't know how to drive through 3 feet of snow and ice, in blowing snow with zero visibility. It is a skill, that I have mastered and am grateful for. Especially on days like today, when I am forced to drive all around the city multiple times.

Feb 11, 2008

Open Book

It's a meme kind of week, kids. Sorry 'bout that. I'm sure one of these days I'll have something of interest to say, just not today. Seven, tagged me this time, and because she's so darn cool, I'm playing along.

1. Pick up the nearest book.
2. Open it to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence/ phrase.
4. Blog the next four sentences/ phrases together with these instructions.
5. Don’t you dare dig your shelves for that very special or intellectual book.
6. Pass it forward to six friends

The nearest book, happens to be a pile of sixteen or so books on my computer desk. I couldn't decide which was the closest book, so I closed my eyes, and pointed.

"On the Road", by Jack Kerouac, ended up being the one my finger landed on.

I was sitting at the window of my hotel room on North Clark Street and the most delicious smell rose to my nostrils from the bakery downstairs. I didn't have a dime but I went down and talked to the girl. She gave me bread and coffee cakes for free. I went back to my room and ate them.

A couple paragraphs later, he goes to a party with Dean and Mary Lou puts some moves on him, and Lucille gets pissed off and goes out to the car with Dean. Good times.

Alrighty then. Pocket Buddha, Wench, Knuckle Toes, Wretched, Nervous Axon and Saviabella....you're up. Consider yourself tagged.

Feb 9, 2008

Let's Go Dancing.

Yet Again, Seven Random Facts About Moi

My friend Wench tagged thy in a meme. Here we go!

The rules are as follows:

# Link to the person who tagged you
# Post the rules on your blog.
# Share seven random and/or weird facts about yourself on your blog.
# Tag seven random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs.
# Leave a comment on their blogs so that they know they have been tagged.

1. In my entire life, no matter where I have lived, my bedroom has never been clean for more that 4 minutes at a time. It most likely never will be.

2. After approximatley 45 seconds of watching "Scott Baio is 45, and Single", I decided it was the stupidest show I had ever seen, and Scott Baio was a whiny little slut. However, I got hooked, and I can't wait to watch "Scott Baio is 46..." when it premieres tomorrow night.

3. For the past four nights, I have been going on grand adventures with Hawksley Workman in my dreams. Most likely, it is because he has been all over the T.V, his new album is out, and he's coming to town again. I have dreamt about him twice before in life, and each time, I ended up breaking up with whoever I was dating within 24 hours. I don't blame Hawksley though, I am sure it was just a co-incidence. (Note to Smyrish: Those were sexy dreams though, and the ones this week haven't been even close to sexy, so I think we're ok. I think it just means we should go see him in March)

4. I prefer Shiraz, but when it comes right down to it, I enjoy all wine. Maybe a bit too much.

5. I have had the same pen pal, from Mauritius, for 15 years. We have tried to meet up many times, but it just hasn't worked out yet. Her life is so interesting, and different that mine, but at the same time, she thinks that my life is interesting and different too.

6. I am taking another train trip in April. I can't wait to get the heck outta dodge!

7. I have a soft spot for music videos that have people riding bicycles in them.

You're tagged! Do what you will, feel no pressure.

Madame Diva
Pop Culture Sculpture
Paige Stanton

Feb 4, 2008

Word Nerd

via Julie's Journal:

Pholph's Scrabble Generator

My Scrabble© Score is: 10.
What is your score? Get it here.

My name is Abigail Road, and I am a Scrabble addict.

Open Letter

Dear stupid Paranormal State show on A&E,

Maybe it's all the cold meds, the booze, or maybe it is because my bedroom door opened all on its own while I was into hour two of watching you in the dark, but I feel that I cannot watch you anymore if I am alone. I am now afraid of pianos and antiques, and fear that if I ever want to buy a home, I will have to bring in a paranormal research group to check it out before I go ahead and purchase it.

It's not that you were the first, Most Haunted and Dead Famous and many other shows scared the bejeesus outta me long ago, long before you were born.

Whoever thought, that after three hours of watching nerdy ghost hunters, I would ever consider having to leave the lights on when I go to bed. Not me, I tells ya.

Ah, who am I kidding? I am addicted to these shows, I'm sure I'll be forced to watch you again, and I will be alone. Maybe I should be blaming whoever opened my door, for the "oh-my-god-i'm-gonna-crap-my-bed" moment.

Keep up the good work, kids.

Love always,